Breaking and entering
by JusticiaBee
Summary: Betty, high on perfume breaks into Gio's apartment to steal back her tickets. For the sensible souls; here is some exposed tanned skin, but it's nowhere worse than an average Grey's Anatomy show... and it's nothing gory and medical!
1. Chapter 1

BREAKING AND ENTERING (responding to Sal85's challenge)

_Challenge, quote Sal85: "This is a muddled up version of the episodes…Betty high on perfume sneaks (breaks into) Gio's apartment to steal back her and Henry's tickets only to find out Gio is alert to the fact that there is an intruder in his home and Betty learns that Gio sleeps in the buff."._

_Just loved this challenge – couldn't resist making a go at it. Sadly don't own the characters and hope I haven't offended anyone who do own them or love them and feel they wouldn't have behaved like this… the perfume held some strong poison, remember?? Gals and Guys - feel free to comment and even write continuing chapters. Many Getty brains thinketh better than one._

Betty knew two things: She smelled good and she sure was going to the show with Henry.

OK, so rude Gio, the new sandwich guy, her fake boyfriend, for the time being sat on her tickets, but that was a minor problem.

She smelled good! She could do anything. She was Super Woman!

Had she not figured out where rude Gio lived?(practically without stalking him.) She'd actually lost him when she tried to follow him yesterday after work, but she'd never sink so low she stalked anyone. Least of all pickle napkin Gio! A few phone calls to former classmates had done the trick. They all remembered him, but amazingly didn't recall her. Well, she hadn't remembered him, and they all trusted her once she said she was Hilda's sister. Who didn't remember Hilda? And they'd helped her circle in his present location.

He hadn't moved far from his folks. She'd guessed that much already. Sandwich guy was Italian for freak's sake! Ever seen an Italian guy more than ten yards away from his _mamma_? The neighborhood resembled her own; a bit worn down, his house needed painting, a couple of frames had seen better days, but heck, it was a house! She only had a narrow room in her father's house – who was she to talk?

It wasn't his name on the door, but all former mates she'd contacted, had given her this address.

She couldn't see his car, which was brilliant. It was all about getting in, nicking the tickets and disappearing without having left trace behind. That couldn't be done according to plan if sandwich guy was home during this breaking and entering.

He obviously was out clubbing, impressing daft, good looking women with that slick tongue of his, and that broad smile, and with his irritating, ironic comments, plus his excellent dancing. Could that man move!

As if she cared!

Just proved how shallow he was. Oh, she knew his kind from high school! The true dogs! They were all too bold, all too popular, all too good looking. Thought they owned the world. He wasn't even that good looking, come to think of it! It was all in his mind – subjective thinking.

The front door was locked. She was prepared.

Her hands were shaking.

Focus, Betty, focus! Motivation!

Motivation: The tickets. She was here for the tickets.

Oh, Henry would be so surprised! Betty smiled. He'd forget all about stupid, beautiful, cunning, pregnant Charlie. And Betty and Henry would have a lovely date beginning with the show and ending with sparkling fireworks - of hot, steaming kisses and horizontal gymnastics. No Charlie in sight. No Charlie in thought. No Charlie for a whole evening. Yes! That was her motivation.

Her hands still shook so heavily, she had to indulge herself in another dose of that awesome perfume of Claire's. Amazing how a scent could lift your spirits! Betty immediately was filled with self esteem.

Super Woman confidence ruled!

On TV she'd seen how low IQ bad guys picked locks with hairpins or credit cards. How difficult could that be? She had no hairpin, and she sure wasn't about to ruin her plastics – some things still had to stay holy!

But she had a fountain pen – a birthday present from Daniel, and she was still cross with Daniel. If he hadn't given Gio those tickets – her tickets to share with her boyfriend (who still was sweet Henry despite the fact that she had told Daniel she was dating rude Gio – which lead to Daniel's mild confusion as to whom she actually dated) she wouldn't have been in this mess. Daniel could have given the tickets to her! He had known her for more than a year and Gio for less than a week. Typical guys to stick together!

Betty didn't like the pen that much anymore. She could do without it. Who wrote with a pen anyway? Everybody had computers. And fact was, she hadn't written much lately (but neither had Shakespeare!)

Betty could sacrifice the pen for sweet love and some possible erotic yoga. She was saving that mental picture. Henry was really athletic, and his six-pack was to die for… It was worth breaking into rude Gio's house for anyway.

No hesitation! Super Woman was focused.

Betty stuck the pen into the lock and jiggled a bit. It sure seemed easier on TV, but then the bad guys, though lack of IQ, had proper equipment and, she suspected, better training in just this field. She had to improvise and learn while doing. Where did bad guys get hairpins from? Most of them were bald. She had gorgeous hair – so Henry told her, she was a good girl and she had never really needed any hairpins.

Something in the lock gave in. She heard a click. She believed the key fell out of the lock and onto the floor. It was a very old fashioned door and a ditto old fashioned lock. She held her breath. No alarm went off. Sandwich guy probably was too helium headed to think someone would break into his home.

His loss!

He didn't seem the type to appreciate the finer arts, anyway. She probably did him a favor, lifting those tickets off his hands.

She giggled and did some inventive moves with the pen. She heard the sound of the lock snapping. Betty couldn't believe her luck when she could actually open the door. It didn't even quirk. OK, so she couldn't remove the pen, but she'd see to that on return. No use in leaving evidence behind – such as fingerprints and a fountain pen with her name engraved.

Super Woman, still smelling good, entered the house.

She stood in a narrow hall, which gave her three doors to choose to open. God, she hated making decisions!

Gio was totally worn out. He had worked like crazy, putting in long hours every day the full week. Keeping the deli running was no walk in the park, but he didn't complain. It was part of his plan, the beginning of a dream that he would make come true. He wasn't afraid of hard work. To top it, he'd helped his uncle Salvatore, doing a few late night shifts at Sal's gas station. His not so bright cousin Diego was down with an infection – which uncle Sal thought was a nasty flu, but Gio knew better. But Diego was family – bad taste in women or not. You helped your folks.

Gio so needed to sleep that he barely got out of his clothes and reached the bed before he collapsed. He practically was unconscious by the time he hit the mattress.

… _he came to it at a steaming hot picnic with the sweetest girl ever –and it all slowly came to him. _

_Sweet pickles, he'd fancied her from the moment he laid eyes on her, and even more from the first time she picked a fight with him – over a dried tomato too few in her sandwich. Now, that was a fierce woman for you! She of course called that a discussion. Let her call it what she wanted. He'd known she had temper once she insisted he had cheated her. _

_That was it. He was sold. Not a chance to escape._

_Gio liked a woman who knew what she wanted. He liked a woman with curves, with a soft body to embrace and melt towards. He liked a woman who was quick tongued and who wasn't scared off by some direct exchange of words. And he liked a woman who dared stand out from the 14-in-a-dozen crowd, a woman who dared be herself._

_When he saw her, he knew she was the one._

_Simple as that. _

_The woman of his dreams._

_Betty. _

_Had there ever been a sweeter name? A sweeter smile? A sweeter face? Had there ever been a more tempting body waiting for the right man to caress and worship and love her?_

_Nope!_

_Betty. _

_He couldn't believe his luck. She had said yes the moment he asked her out. OK, so she hadn't said yes at once, but you had to work a little for all the good things in life. She had said there was no one else. OK, so she said there was someone else; a small hindrance named Egg salad, but he was a minor worry. Egg salad would soon be history. What full blooded Italian stud had ever been stopped by a pale accountant with glasses and a pregnant girlfriend?_

_There was no competition._

_All other NY men were obviously blind – but Gio didn't mind. Betty practically was there for him to pick. _

_He could see where the NY men were blind, he knew what he liked - and he sure liked her. He worshipped every gorgeous inch of her. He had widescreen, full color dreams of her. HD - some of them X-rated. OK, most of them were X-rated, but he hadn't acted out any of them - yet. You moved carefully when you met a woman like Betty._

_He'd made thorough plans for the picnic. _

_He'd picked Betty up after work. Made sure Egg salad saw them take off together. It wasn't only a matter of enjoying yourself – you had to annoy someone when doing so. Betty didn't know. She was innocent and sweet and excited - and she believed he was a gentleman._

_Yeah – right!_

_They rode his car to Montauk. He'd brought a bottle of Italian red, a good vintage of Barolo._

_They built a fire on the beach and grilled marshmallows. They danced bare feet to the music from his car stereo. She was careful when he first grabbed her, but when she loosened up, she danced like a queen. She moved those full hips like she was born to seduce. Heck – she was Latina, she'd just forgotten that, climbing the career ladder, moving among the pale Mode girls who never ate. Her full bosom dived as she danced and tempted him more than he could express in words. She'd run screaming from him had she known his thoughts in full color._

_Betty was happy and tipsy and didn't mention accountant boy once. Gio fed her strawberries, one at a time. He fed her dark chocolate and grapes. She licked his fingers snapping the goodies, and his mouth dried so much he was convinced their quiet beach was the Sahara desert. He would have loved it there in her company._

_They joked. They recited poetry they knew by heart. She knew a lot of Shakespeare. He had a great repertoire of Italian pop song lyrics. She loved it when he first gave her the Italian version, then translated to English._

_Gio wondered just how big this Waggerdagger-guy would have been, had he been born Italian. _

_They cuddled up together, shared a blanket, drank more wine and watched the sun go down. They fell asleep in each other's arms. They woke up, lazy, dozy – wonderfully dizzy, happy, arms and legs entangled._

_The moment had come. _

_Gio recognized it. Betty was warm and not at all blind for his charm. He was kissing her softly, feeling the sweetness of her lips, tasting her, making her respond to his every kiss, making her want more. Slowly he touched her curved body. He hadn't wanted anybody this badly in all his life. The electricity between them fizzed and crackled. It was about to set her on fire…_

…someone was at the front door.

Gio woke up swearing in Italian. What _stronzo _broke into his dream just as it was getting interesting? He jumped to his feet, grabbed the baseball bat next to the bed and moved quietly on naked feet, hiding his person behind the door.

If that jerk believed he could both ruin what could have been a very pleasant dream and break into the house, Giovanni Rossi was about to prove the idiot wrong!

The jerk was moving around in the hall. Ha ha. Nothing to steal there. Gio positioned broadlegged. He could wait!

First door proved to be the bathroom. It had a sickening green color. It sure could need some extreme makeover. It would have been interesting to see what Ty could have made out of it, but Betty wasn't up to making rude Gio, the fakest of all fake boyfriends, any favors. Betty shut the door, half dizzy by the smell of Gio's after shave. At least the smell proved it was the right house, no matter which name was on the door.

The second door opened to the kitchen. Spotless. Maybe he didn't cook much at home. Probably went home to _mamma's_ to eat. Did enough cooking at work, blah, blah, blah. She could almost hear his excuses. She would have stuck the tickets to the fridge with a colorful magnet. The SMEG fridge wasn't decorated with anything, neither magnets nor tickets.

He probably kept them real safe. Like in his bedroom. Betty felt her cheeks flush.

Motivation!

Bedroom – door number three?

Betty boldly opened it, but didn't digest any of its soul. The second she stepped into the room, she heard a scream and a butt naked man jumped up in front of her, waving a star spangled baseball bat. She didn't get what he was screaming. The bat fell to the ground and rapidly covered the only interesting – item to view in the room. Not that she was looking!

- Gio, she breathed and tried to pretend she hadn't picked his lock and gained access to his home. She was simply – visiting. How very rude of him to entertain her in his birthday suit.

- Betty, he responded hoarsely and pulled his breath – deep.

It was the first time she'd seen him lost for words and slightly uncomfortable. Not to mention naked.

She nodded at the baseball bat.

- How very patriotic of you, she commented.

She was absolutely not trying to get a sneak peak of his private parts. They were, after all, private.

- I was in the neighborhood, she explained. – Thought it would be polite to say hello. Hello!

She did her Betty-wave and smiled.

- Geez, it's hot in her, she rattled on. – You like it this hot? Betty asked. – Well, obviously you do. And walking 'round in the buff… well, you need it hot. Not that it bothers me how you dress … or don't dress… in your own home. This is your home, by the way? I noticed another name on the door…

- Belongs to my uncle Andrea – uh, Gio explained while crouching gracefully (or not) over the bat, trying very hard to hide what she needn't see – yet. He wasn't ashamed of what he'd been blessed with, but this wasn't how he'd planned to show her the goodies – less alone how he'd planned to seduce her.

That master plan involved romance, music, dance, wine, smooth conversation, kisses, slow moves … not humiliation or nudeness. Well, no nudeness to start with, anyway.

- He's over in the old country for a year, he said like they were having a totally normal conversation. - Lets me live here. House sitting. He's the baseball player.

Betty's glance again sought the bat – and it immediately drifted off. No way did he hide the tickets there, or anywhere else on his body.

He could be proud of that body, BTW. Not that she stared. She just noticed. She couldn't help seeing – she had eyes after all, since he flashed all that tanned skin right in front of her. Betty was just a woman, super of course, but also Super Woman had eyes. She sweated and had to use all her self control not to run her palms over his taut, muscled chest, the well-developed shoulders and the tight, smooth skin curving over his hip.

Ooooh! Once again the bat caught her eye. The baseball bat! No rude imagination allowed! Her mouth went dry. She felt dizzy.

- Didn't think you'd be home, she said. Her voice actually worked.

- You don't say, Gio responded and lifted his brows. – That's why you came calling – so late?

- Uhum, she answered, forcing herself to look the other way. She could still steal a glance of his well sculptured body – from the corner of her eye. The frames of her glasses hopefully hid her unholy interest. And that dry mouth slowly watered, it continued watering.

- You broke into my home, Suarez, Gio said and waved his hands, causing him to accidentally losing the grip of the bat. He had to make some acrobatic moves to avoid showing her the full sparkle of the family jewels.

She rolled her eyes, swallowed hard, and Gio could swear she was close to fainting. Which somewhat cheered him up. So – he impressed her, huh? He knew he had some moves. Egg salad-Henry maybe wasn't as well equipped?

Hadn't he known that already; no competition!

Doing some more spectacular moves, Gio fell over the bed and covered his body up with the bedspread while franticly looking for his clothes. He located the jeans, was able to reach them with his toes, but not the boxers, and he decided going commando was way better than flashing himself. Betty looked at him, sweetly blushing, while he struggled to get dressed without revealing more secrets for her very eyes. Once buttoned up, he let go of the bedspread.

- Why are you here? Gio asked, walking towards her.

Betty gazed at him, a strange flame flashed in those dark brown eyes in front of her.

Gee, she felt weird! She was floating.

His gaze melted her. She was honey, and she wanted him to be Winnie-the-Pooh. She wanted him to lick all that honey. Her lips moved, but there came no sound. How silly – just when she had so many things to tell him. She tried again, but she didn't remember what to say. Her knees were trembling. And he came closer. She could feel the warmth of his body. He radiated – he was hot like a thousand suns. She could smell him. And she sure would like to touch that warm, toned shirtless chest…

- I like the look of you, Giovanni Rossi, Betty murmured hoarsely.

Gio couldn't believe his ears. He had to be back in that dream!

They were on the beach, he'd just unbuttoned his shirt and tore it off, aiming to persuade her to go skinny dipping with him. He knew he could make her say yes…

He lifted a hand to touch her. Betty smiled, opening her mouth a little, showing the tip of her tongue, as if she was inviting him to kiss her.

And she fell to the floor, eyes closed, cheeks blushing, those sweet lips trembling – and Gio could swear they formed his name.

_- Gio…_

He stumbled to his knees. He lifted her into his arms. And – heaven forbid, but he just couldn't resist it – his lips lightly touched hers.

- Betty, he said, voice trembling. – Betty, no playing games on me. Betty, please wake up!

She wasn't playing games. She was flat out, and Gio couldn't understand what caused it. Could she be sick? Heaven forbid -could she be pregnant? He felt his anger rise. He could have killed Henry with his bare hands; impregnating two women at the same time…

She couldn't be so stupid… but then again – she was a woman who believed she was in love with a man who didn't deserve her. Saner women had done stranger things.

She'd behaved strangely lately – but he'd thought she was avoiding him. Egg salad didn't like her hanging out with him. Egg salad, very wisely, saw Gio as a threat.

He was no medic. He wasn't even a paramedic. Gio held her softly while he dug his mobile phone out of his pocket and dialed 911.

- Operator, he said. – I need an ambulance here…

_Feel free to continue, anyone!! _


	2. Chapter 2

- I don't need an ambulance, Betty insisted when the paramedics arrived. – It's low blood sugar. All I need is something to eat…

- She fainted, Gio insisted. – She is delusional.

- He's insane, Betty protested. – He's Italian…

- She's clearly not well. You are not well, Betty!

- Says who? Betty tried to sit up, but was so dizzy she had to lay down.

- See? Gio asked.

- You are who? the female paramedic asked and gave Gio's naked chest a good staring.

Gio told the paramedics that he was her boyfriend. He didn't even blink. He found a shirt and buttoned it on the way to the ambulance.

- You don't have to come, Betty said. – I don't need an ambulance. Just give me a cookie, and I'll be fine!

- Are you pregnant, miss?

Betty widened her eyes in horror. Then she broke out in laughter.

- I'm not pregnant, she laughed hysterically. – Pregnant! How would that happen?

The female paramedic gave Gio a glance. She apparently had some ideas that could hav answered that existential question.

- tell them, Gio, Betty squeaked. -Charlie is the pregnant one! Charlie and Henry are pregnant!

The paramedics exchanged glances.

- She has read a lot of Harry Potter lately, Gio said, in an attempt to explain her irrational behavior.

– Charlie is a girl, he added. He didn't want them to think Betty had lost all her marbles. – Charlie is Henry's girlfriend. I'm Betty's boyfriend, Gio. I'm Italian.

- Nooo, she protested.

- Hush, babe, he eased her. – Don't try to speak. You'll be OK in no time.

Gio repeated he was her boyfriend when they arrived at the hospital. And Betty protested every time she had a slightly clear moment.

- You're not my boyfriend! I want Henry! Henry is my boyfriend. Henry is my lovely lovely boyfriend! Stupid, stupid Charlie! Stupid Gio! You're a stupid fake boyfriend!

- She is confused, Gio explained to the busy nurse while they waited for a doctor to look at her.

- I'm not confused, Betty insisted. She lowered her voice. – He's from like Italy! You know? I-ta-ly!

But she had problems focusing, and she didn't remember her last name, and Gio didn't have to pretend to look worried. He was the picture of a worrying boyfriend. The nurse believed him. When the doctor arrived, he believed Gio as well.

- I'm Super Woman, Betty giggled to the doctor. – Super Woman on a ticket mission. She grabbed his collar with one hand, whispering, – Do you know where he has hid the tickets?

Gio had to help the distinguished elderly man to loosen her grip.

- Hey, babe, Gio eased, - the man is here to help you. Don't scare him off.

- Does she take any medication?

Gio said no. Betty giggled.

- Has she been drinking anything?

- Not with me, no, Gio answered. She had behaved slightly off character, but Betty was careful with alcohol.

- Has she eaten – anything unusual?

- His sandwiches! Betty giggled even more and pointed a finger at Gio. – His only-two-sundried-tomatoes-scrimpy-baguettes.

- I run a deli, he explained. – Three sundried tomatoes ruin the flavor. Everything I sell is strictly natural.

- Gio sleeps _au naturel_, Betty confided and smiled and sighed. – He has a cute butt. But Henry has a better chest.

- Does she do drugs? the doctor asked.

- No.

Gio felt slightly uncomfortable.

- He's offending me, do you hear him? Betty said and squinted when looking at the doctor. – I don't like him. He's evil. Don't you see, Gio? He's eeeeevil!

- We'll take a blood sample, miss, the doctor said dryly. – It can be dehydration. Low blood sugar. Stress. A nurse will come here soon.

He escaped.

- I'm hungry. I haven't eaten.

Betty took off her glasses. She waved her lashes. There were tears in them, like glass pearls, like morning dew. Gio didn't think she was pretending. He fell for it anyway.

- I'll get you some chocolate, he promised. – You go nowhere.

He dashed out into the maze of corridors to find chocolate for Betty.

When he returned, the ER was hectic, paramedics and police constables rolled in half a dozen tough looking young men, all of them bleeding heavily from what Gio believed had to be gun wounds. There were yelling and shouting all over. He got back just in time to see Betty be pushed out of the room they had been waiting in.

- Eeek, she screamed when she saw the wounded men.

One of them blew her a kiss as he was rolled past her.

- Glass eyed mama, the bad guy said and winked his eye.

Betty stumbled backwards, bumping into a porter who yelled at her. Gio was there to grab her hand by the time she was about to totally freak out. He pulled her aside, and she allowed him to fold his arms around her. He held her tenderly, talking softly to her in Italian. It seemed to ease her more than anything else.

- Gang shooting, they heard one of the coppers explain to a nurse. – Drive by. Big man of the Lazy Snakes got wounded. He nodded towards one of the cubicles.

Gio could see the guy who'd spoken to Betty.

-There can be attempts to kill him while he's here, the police constable blabbered, not giving a thought that anyone could hear his every word. –Both gangs will try to gain access here. There will be press…

- Take me away from here, Betty said to Gio.

He didn't hesitate. The nurse wouldn't come to take that blood test any time soon. They were too busy with the victims from the gang shooting, and there were coming in more rough types, wounded too, but able to walk. There was a rattle of big golden chains all along the corridor, the floor got blood stained. Betty made little squeaks as she breathed. Gio decided she wasn't safe her. Maybe it was low blood sugar after all. He didn't want all the top criminals of some dodgy neighborhood perving over her. They got out just as the media was arriving. Gio got a smile from one of the camera girls, and as it lay in his nature, he smiled back.

Loud music filled their ears, a couple of impressive, well polished black SUV's pulled up in front of the hospital, and two impressively muscled fellas crawled out. The cars immediately took off. The guys didn't remove their shades, and they didn't care crap about the reporters and microphones. They walked straight towards the main entrance.

Gio grabbed Betty's hand. They hasted away from the camera flashes and the action. He started to believe she was her old self, but insisted she ate the chocolate.

- My favorites, she said. – How did you know?

- I know everything, he joked. – Now we'll have to find the nearest subway station…

She narrowed her eyes. – Who are you? she asked. – Where are you taking me? You part of that shooting?

Gio held back that last chocolate bar. Sugar wasn't the answer. Escaping the hospital could have been wrong, but he didn't want to bring her back now. It was probably being transferred to Fort Knox as they spoke anyway. He would have to deal with her irrational ways on his own. Or he could bring her home. Her dad would probably believe he was responsible for the state she was in. That wasn't the way to impress his future father-in-law. Or he could consult Daniel, her boss. Daniel wasn't a bad bloke, and he cared about Betty.

Would he have liked that his boss saw him the state Betty was in?

There was Henry, of course.

No Henry. Egg salad already was a hero in her eyes – no matter he'd knocked up Charlie. Gio couldn't bear to see Henry gain any more cookie points.

- You belong to that scary dude's gang? she whispered, trying to escape.

Gio had to struggle hard to hold her.

- I'm Gio, baby, he said. – Your mate – Gio. Sandwich guy! Pickle napkin Gio!

_Gio – your hot blooded lover. Gio, your favorite stud. Gio, your own honey, darling, sweetheart, cuddles. Baseball bat Gio… _

As if.

But she did remember Gio. Eventually.

- Duh, she let go. – You.

He nodded.

- Why are we here? Are we escaping the shooting?

The shooting had got to her. Gio nodded. Seemed to be the fastest way to get her out of here.

- We have to get back to my place to hide, he convinced her.

- Your place? There was a touch of reason behind her confusion. She was suspicious.

- You forgot your purse there, he said.

Betty accepted that.

She behaved normally all the way back to his place. Almost. She danced to the music the ragged fiddler played down at the subway. She insisted they were going to Venice and Paris, and she rattled on about the gondolas and the Eiffel Tower, but NY had seen a lot, and she passed as a mere eccentric.

- I forgot my pen, she said when they entered his house.

Gio knew. It had been impossible to remove the fountain pen from his lock, and he just hadn't cared to fight it when the ambulance was there to fetch her. He hoped the rascals of the block hadn't picked Uncle Andrea's house clean. But he didn't really see who of the kids would dare enter Uncle Andy's house without permission, he was well connected, and everybody knew the fact. They didn't really have petty crime in his neighborhood. They looked after one another. There still was some respect left in the world.

- I'll make us some food, Gio said as soon as he had her indoors. The house was as they had left it.

- Why don't you lie down for a while, Betty?

- You naughty, naughty guy! She laughed at him. – Don't you think I know what's on your mind?

Gio pulled a deep breath. Just now he truly wanted her to nap, so no, she didn't know what was on his mind. He opened the door to his bedroom and steered her in.

- Relax, sweetie, and I'll be back in a tick. I'll whisk us an omelet. That sounds good to you?

- The goons were after the tickets? Betty whispered out of nothing. – That's why they were shooting?

Her mind worked in mysterious ways.

She hurried and pulled the curtains.

- You sure no one followed us? You lock the door! That evil eyed one – he looked at me. He can recognize me!

Gio nodded.

- You just hide in here, he said and backed out of the bedroom. – I'll lock the door and break some eggs for the omelet.

The last thing he saw before locking the door, was Betty reaching for the baseball bat.

They had lost the tickets. The scary looking scarred guy with the golden chains and the rude wink had stolen the tickets.

Betty could see everything clearly.

But he couldn't have the tickets still – he had been shot. He had been bleeding from the chest. Someone had shot him and taken the tickets from him. Maybe the guys in the big SUV's. The press knew about the shooting. The press probably knew about the tickets too. If she made a move, it would be all over the papers and on TV. _Papi_ would be mad. And Henry would know. It was supposed to be a surprise.

She had to stay low for a while.

Fake Gio could protect her. He was good at protecting. He had stayed close and held her in his arms even when the gang members swarmed the ER. He hadn't even blinked. He was quite brave – though totally annoying.

Maybe the evil guy thought she could provide them with more tickets. He could come after her. She froze. She needed a gun. The baseball bat was heavy. She was no ball player. She hated team sports. Team sports were traumatic to her. She didn't want to dig deeper there. Reluctant memories should stay buried once they had stopped aching. She couldn't afford the counseling it would take to take her past all that.

Blokes didn't notice other blokes. That Lazy Snake of course remembered her – but no way he remembered Gio. Only silly women remembered Gio. Even if they found out who she was, they couldn't find her while she was at Gio's.

Her purse was half way hidden under his bed. She grabbed it and got a piece of clothing along with it. Both her brows rose.

Black silk, button-down Armani boxers?

Pickle napkin Gio wore Armani undies? Black silk undies?

She held Gio's undies between her fingers?

Betty tossed them away. But she couldn't help speculating. Gio wasn't a silky boxer Armani guy – not to the eye.

She found the perfume and gave herself a spray. Ahhh, that was lovely. She felt refreshed immediately, and let herself fall back onto his bed.

…_Betty woke up to the smell of roast chicken. He had talked about an omelet, hadn't he? Not that she minded a man stretching for her. _

_- You aim to please? she asked as she joined him in the kitchen._

_Gio had made a lovely table. There was a roasted chicken, there were French fries, crispy veggies, warm bread. He'd lit candles. He pulled out the chair for her. He served her. He spoke about music and favorite books. About growing up. She understood he had a huge family, and she wished her had been bigger._

_When they finished the meal, Betty poured glasses of wine while he built a fire in the fireplace in the living room. She hadn't noticed the fireplace, but it was lovely. They never got as far as the wine. He took her in his arms, tenderly, gently._

_- I'm a hopeless romantic, he whispered hoarsely, kissing her throat._

_Don't stop, she thought._

_- Me too, she murmured, closing her eyes in surrender. _

_That cheeky, arrogant dog had spread a blanket in front of the fire. He had brought pillows there. He continued kissing her._

_- Perfect, Betty sighed._

_- Not yet, he said against her lips. – Soon…_

_Slowly, he unbuttoned her blouse and removed it, careful not to snag her hair. She boldly helped him out of the shirt. She had already seen everything he could reveal. When she unlocked her bra and let it drop, Gio sucked in a sharp breath. He stared at her._

_- God, Betty, you are beautiful!_

_She smiled lazily. He was beautiful too. Flickering light from the fire played over his body. Her eyes ached just looking at him. He looked just right, Betty thought._

_- Yes, she breathed as Gio slid his hands up her ribs to the sides of her breasts…_

- Omelet ready, a voice broke into that fuming lovely moment by the fireplace.

Betty sat up, not wanting to open her eyes.

Gio framed by the door. Still in his clothes. Disappointing! Her body was still reacting to his touches, to his kisses and gentle, but sweetly provoking caresses.

- You OK? he asked. – You look flushed. Once you have eaten I can give you something for the fever.

_Oh yeah, sweet honey, you can give me something for the fever_! she thought and flushed more.

- An aspirin or something, he said.

_No aspirin, you idiot_!

- You want to eat here – or in the living room? Gio asked.

- You have a living room? Betty asked, almost breathless.

- Don't everybody? I switched on the TV – checking out the news. I think I could see a glimpse of us behind that reporter. It isn't like Jeopardy or America's Got Talent, but we've been on TV today, Betty.

She could think of huger achievements.

- I built a fire on the fireplace, Gio added. – Maybe you fancy grilling marshmallows?

He hoped it sounded innocently enough for her. It wasn't quite like taking her to Montauk and sleeping on the beach – but it could still be nice. And almost everything he'd dreamt.

- I'm a hopeless romantic, Gio smiled.

Betty swallowed.

- Living room sounds fine, Gio.

_Bring me to that fire, and show me how gently those fingers can move_! she though. Dreams could be so inspirational.

- I'll just freshen up a bit, she said and reached for Claire's perfume.

- Wasn't that Betty? Charlie asked and looked closer at the TV screen. – Just behind the reporter.

- Betty? Henry tried to sound normal. He followed Charlies pointing finger.

- Uhum, it's her. And that guy from the deli, Charlie concluded. – What's his name? He's kinda cute. Sexy bum. Great eyes.

She gave him a teasing elbow in the ribs.

- Not that I'm looking. I'm so not a crotch watcher! I like chests. And strong arms. Like you have, dear. You didn't tell me Betty is seeing him. Oh, what's his name…

- Gio, Henry said, his voice flat. – I didn't know she was seeing him.


End file.
